


Lightning Strike

by rei_c



Series: Stiles Stilinski: Vongola Sky [8]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, First Meetings, Gen, Sky Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 15:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17531372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rei_c/pseuds/rei_c
Summary: Stiles and Erica find themselves besieged by assassination attempts. Stiles has an idea of who's behind them, he just doesn't knowwhy.





	Lightning Strike

Stiles takes one look at the dinner cart being wheeled into the suite and gives his flame free reign. All of the food explodes into ash, the drinks bubble to boiling and then evaporate, the cart itself melts into a pile of liquid brass on the floor. The servant who rolled the cart in ends up pressed to the wall, flames pinning his limbs to the wallpaper and forming spikes close to every major artery. 

Erica gets up a split-second before Stiles, eyes gone beta-gold, fangs and claws out, but she waits when Stiles tugs on their bond. She moves to the side, lets Stiles stand and approach the servant, who's wide-eyed and pale, trembling. 

"Did you know?" he asks. The servant shakes his head, says he doesn't understand, and Stiles narrows his eyes, gestures at the pile of steaming liquid on the floor. "Poisoned," he says. Erica growls. "It was all poisoned, even the water. You brought it straight from the kitchen?" 

"Straight from -- yes, Decimo, straight from the kitchen, Decimo, yes," the servant says, tears filling his eyes. "Decimo, I didn't -- I don't know what happened, I'm _sorry_ , please, I don't -- I'm so sorry, Decimo, I am." 

He looks as if he's willing to keep begging and he feels like he's telling the truth, but Stiles glances at Erica, raises an eyebrow. She nods, snarling, and Stiles pulls his flames back. The servant drops to his knees, ducks his head. Stiles bites his bottom lip, considers his options, finally says, "Go back to the kitchen. Tell no one." 

The servant nods furiously, says, "Yes, Decimo, thank you, thank you," and scrambles away. 

Stiles closes the door, leans on it and studies the dregs of their dinner. With the servant ruled out, the poison either came from some kind of ambush in the halls that the servant didn't notice or was made to forget -- mists, possibly, or perhaps a cloud picking up on some kind of bacteria and exploding a few cells into a full colony -- or the poisoning happened in the kitchen.

Poison, though. Stiles remembers something about poison. He stalks across the room, picks up the phone and dials Xanxus' number. 

Stiles' cousin picks up before the second ring finishes. "Stiles?" 

"Who tried to poison Tsuna?" Stiles asks. 

There's a moment of quiet, then a muttered curse. "Verde," Xanxus says. "I'll have Mammon deal with it." 

Stiles considers that, finally says, "No. If the lightning Arcobaleno wants to test me, let him." 

"Dangerous words, cousin," Xanxus says. "I'd counsel against it." 

A rumble escapes Erica's throat though her 'wolf-shift drops when Stiles looks at her, grinning, dark look in his sky-orange eyes. She meets his gaze, tastes the feel of their bond, scents the air and the chemosignals Stiles is giving off, then nods, lips curving up in a wicked smile. 

\--

Over the next week, there are fifteen more assassination attempts, culminating in a Tuesday night attack by two people wearing invisibility suits. Stiles' flame-tags them and he lets Erica play a little while he stands back and watches their fighting style compared to Erica's. She's learning so much from the Varia -- her motions are fluid, she has full control of her shift, using claws when it suits and hiding them before they scrape the furniture or snag on fabrics, her speed gives her movements an electric liquidity that suits her ferocity. 

Stiles is just about to enter the fray when he feels the air take on the distinct buzzing sizzle of electricity. He throws his flame outwards, feels it hit a distinctly _hard_ patch of air near the door. 

" _Enough_ ," Stiles says, quiet yet fierce, implacable, pushing all of his strength and will into the word. Erica immediately settles into a crouch in front and to the right of Stiles and the two assassins she'd been fighting crumple under the weight of Stiles' command. The lightning Stiles felt steps into the room, lets the shield hiding him dissipate, and meets Stiles' eyes. 

Verde gives Stiles a long, studying look, then breaks their locked gaze, glances up and down Stiles' body, takes in Erica with an air of curiosity, and, without warning, flares his lightning hot and fast in lasers that arc their way toward Stiles. Stiles lets his flames eat up the strike, raises an eyebrow when the air is clear once more. 

"At least you're better than the other one," Verde finally says. "You knew it was me. Why didn't you stop me earlier?" 

"Because I was curious to see how far you'd go," Stiles says, "and if you'd grow bored." 

Verde frowns, takes one step closer to Stiles. Erica snarls, garnering Verde's interest for a brief moment, enough to mutter, "Pack-bonded werewolf _and_ guardian-bonded latent cloud. Interesting," before dismissing her and turning his attention back to Stiles. "Curiosity is important to you, then?" 

Apparently content that there's no attack imminent, Erica laughs, straightens up and pops her back. "Batman over here wants to know everything he can get his hands on," she says, "and he's not always nice about how he gets his hands on --" 

Stiles clears his throat, cutting Erica off. She comes to his side, tilts her head and lowers her eyes in apology. Stiles runs fingertips down her throat, then squeezes the back of her neck until she whimpers. He doesn't take his eyes off of Verde's. 

Verde hums, then waves his hand, says, "Leave us." The two assassins creep off and, after Stiles prods her through their bond, Erica follows. She doesn't close the door, though, and no doubt she stays close enough to hear Stiles' conversation -- a further distance than most assume, what with her shifter hearing. Verde glances at the door as if he's gauging whether or not she's eavesdropping and, more likely, whether he finds that acceptable, then nods to himself and moves across the sitting room, perching on the edge of an armchair and looking at Stiles over his glasses, gesturing for Stiles to sit on the couch across from him. 

Intrigued, Stiles does. 

"I don't need a sky," Verde says, abruptly. "After my experience with skies, I don't necessarily want one, either. A Vongola sky, though -- I think I would find that interesting." 

"Hence the testing," Stiles half-asks. "I'm flattered." 

One corner of Verde's mouth quirks up. "The mist Arcobaleno approves of you. The Vongola are politically strong, wealthy, and not used to suffering idiots, gladly or otherwise. You've somehow redeemed your mother's line with the Ninth and yet you count both the Varia head and the once-presumptive Decimo as allies. You're aligned with _werewolves_ and you're single-handedly responsible for the destruction of one of the oldest and most feared hunting families in the world. I've done research into your hometown. There are -- events, lets say, that have piqued my interest." 

Stiles leans back on the couch, shifts to sprawl out. "Beacon Hills is, on the surface, a very normal town. But recent events have changed things. Changed people." 

"Is it safe?" Verde asks. 

Stiles can feel Erica's amusement bounce down their bond. He gives Verde a wry smile, says, "Not in the slightest." With the slightest hint of apology pressed towards Erica, Stiles goes on. "The alpha's young and untrained. He has no grasp on his instincts or his pack. There are other, unaligned 'wolves in his territory and he's left them alone. We're also on the Court of the Never-Never's annual circuit, and have a family of banshees, a clan of skinwalkers, a poisoned nemeton, and a mental institution housing criminally insane supernatural beings in our borders. Not to mention," he adds, lightly, "the remnants of an old Japanese internment camp and the possibility of a Dread Doctors outpost housing their captured _löwenmench_."

Verde blinks slowly. "That's -- quite the territory. How did you come by this knowledge?" 

"Like Erica said," Stiles replies, smirk on his lips, "I like to know everything I can get my hands on." Verde rolls his eyes. "I reached out to some of the Vongola's contacts," Stiles says, before Verde can ask for a _real_ answer, "and sent some of the magically-inclined Varia to pull out whatever information they could from people in Beacon Hills and the surrounding area. There's also a Varia mist babysitting my father and working at the sheriff's station; he came up with a great deal of the finer details and put me in touch with an elder alpha werewolf hiding in the forest outside of the city. There's Peter, as well."

"Peter," Verde echoes. "Peter Hale, the one who infiltrated the estate here and then disappeared into the clutches of the Varia. What is he to -- oh, of course. The alpha's uncle. He feels an obligation to you for ridding him of the Argent clan?" 

Stiles nods. "No doubt he'll offer a guardian bond -- mist, and from all reports quite creative, though he's recently activated. Erica and I have discussed the possibility and she's willing to work with him. Would you be amenable?" 

It's the first time Stiles has admitted to anyone else that the odds of him and Peter bonding are -- not laughable, not anymore. He's still not sure how to feel about it, about the idea of giving Peter his absolute trust, and his hesitancy is no doubt clear to someone of Verde's intellect, especially as Stiles isn't hiding his trepidation. There's just -- a lot of history between them. Stiles isn't positive he'll be able to push aside or work through all of those issues anytime soon but he can't deny that the thought of having someone like Peter Hale under his control -- especially as his _mist_ \-- is tempting. It's the Vongola in him, Stiles thinks, and there are moments, late at night, when Erica's asleep with her legs tangled in his and her face buried in his neck, that Stiles hates himself. 

"I would like to meet him," Verde says, "but I'm not initially opposed." He fixes his eyes and the attention of his flame on Stiles, pauses momentarily, then says, "People would call me a sociopath. I am concerned with my scientific exploration more than anything else and I let nothing stand in the way of my experimentation and observation. I don't need money or the protection of the Vongola name but both would be nice to have, along with Vongola and Varia resources. I would, of course, come to your defense if needed, but would otherwise prefer to be left alone. Do you find any of that distasteful?"

"Are you willing to be left alone in or near Beacon Hills as long as I'm there, and then relocate to an area in this general vicinity once I permanently move back to Vongola territory?" Stiles asks. "Or would it disturb your experiments too much to transfer your lab?" 

Verde purses his lips, tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes. "Moving would be a hassle but isn't completely out of the question if I'm going to get something to make up for the trouble." Stiles nods, waits for Verde's terms, which come with a somewhat cruel smile. "A banshee would suffice."

No doubt Verde's spies and research picked up on Stiles' crush. It's an interesting bargaining chip, touching on Stiles' protectiveness of Lydia, on the one hand, and the necessity of ruthlessness, on the other. By every metric, Verde will serve as a better ally in the short- and long-term than Stiles' childhood obsession.

Stiles is no longer a child and obsessions, for the Vongola, are dangerous things to have. 

"She's intelligent," Stiles says, "and would make an excellent research partner, but if you want Lydia Martin as a subject, then I'll make it happen. I'll drag her to you by her hair if I need to." 

"Nothing so plebeian," Verde says. "I find that the promise of curiosity satisfied is enough of a draw for those of us who consider ourselves intelligent." He stands, abrupt, and comes over to the couch as Stiles sits up. "I believe you're worthy enough, Decimo," Verde says, and his eyes flare as the green shock of his lightning flame covers his right hand, the right hand he's holding out to Stiles in offering. 

Stiles brings his flame out and, as he shakes Verde's hand, his sky twining around and throughout Verde's lightning, he feels the very beginnings of a guardian bond start to form. 

"You will never push me," Verde says, quiet, "or I will kill you." 

"My sky is a shelter," Stiles replies, in much the same tone and volume, "not a prison. I may ask you for more than you are willing to give but I will never force you into providing it."

Their flames curled up together, there's no way for either of them to lie, so when Verde gives Stiles a small grin and murmurs, "I look forward to our collaboration," Stiles knows the Arcobaleno means it.

Stiles can't help returning Verde's smile, knows it looks silly and full on his face, but Verde doesn't laugh at him for it. He just dips his chin down, eyes flicking to the ground in respect, before turning and leaving, pressing satisfaction along the edges of their nascent bond. 

"Oh my god, Stiles, oh my _god_ ," Erica's saying even as she's scrambling into the room, "what the _fuck_ just happened, are we -- did you -- what, what, _what_ are you -- did we get -- I can _feel_ \-- did you promise him _Lydia_ when you -- what're you even -- _shit_."

With his eyes closed and all of his focus on the thin, tentative bond anchored precariously in his flame, Stiles murmurs, "Nono's gonna be so pissed I bonded with _Verde_." 

He starts laughing, can't help himself, and the faint traces of Erica's fear, confusion, and fury disappear, blanketed under the crackling of Verde's lightning echoing through his sky.


End file.
